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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686677">Swan Dive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreetheFanfic/pseuds/FreetheFanfic'>FreetheFanfic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Forgery, Art Historian!Ben Solo, Art History, Bad Art Criticism, Ben likes Rubens, But also, C-3PO is the choir accompanist, Cat Burglars, Choir Singer!Rey, Convoluted plans, Erotic Art Criticism, F/M, Finn is MVP, Getaway Driver!Poe, Hacker!Rose Tico, Heist, M/M, Museums, Ninja!Rey, Slow Burn, Soft Ben Solo, Too Much Baroque Painting, but actually, in theory but actually, they have issues, they're okay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:53:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreetheFanfic/pseuds/FreetheFanfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Heist AU. The First Order museum has an underground art forgery ring that Leia wants stopped, so she puts together a team to steal a painting (for a good cause!) and expose the shady dealings. Ben Solo is an art historian and museum curator who also paints the forgeries for Snoke. Rey goes to scope out the location but gets distracted when his passion for art enflames her passion for him. Ahem-hem.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Swan Dive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: This story may require generous suspension of disbelief. I don't know much about art, forgeries, cat burglary, heists, or security systems. I'm doing research, but I don't know much about any aspect of this story -- except choir. I know some stuff about choir.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey thought the hours she’d spent practicing birdcalls were really paying off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">While her fellow sopranos were cooing and trilling and generally sounding distinctly like singers trying to sound like birds, Rey’s own sounds were convincing, natural, downright <em>avian</em>. The cacophony swelled, the piano rolled, and Rey’s own contribution put the whole thing over the edge from soundscape to “indoor rainforest”, in her opinion. It was almost disappointing when the music swept forward and it was time to actually sing, but soon she was wrapped up in the Spanish syllables hanging in the air like dust motes captured by a ray of light, weaving her voice into the music, and clutching her slightly sweaty sheet of paper tightly in preparation for the grand finale.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Rey sent her high notes soaring above the choir in the last singing section, the whole choir restarted their bird noises with renewed enthusiasm, building up to a raucous wave of sound before Amilyn Holdo, their director, gave a resounding clap of her hands, cutting them all off and unleashing a choreographed fluttering of papers from her choir members.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The silence was allowed to ring out for only a moment before Holdo was providing notes. “Snap. Great bird whistles, very authentic.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, Director. It’s the shiny cowbird, I learned it from a YouTube video,” Snap said into his sheet music, hiding a tiny grin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brilliant job. Tallissan, what in the world was that throat screaming you were doing at the end there?” Holdo tipped her reading glasses down to eye Tallie, their beaded string drooping dramatically.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tallie huffed. “The blue-fronted amazon. It’s a parrot from the same video as Snap’s bird.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Amazon? That’s the wrong continent, dear.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So is Snap’s!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” Holdo said. “Rey.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey’s head snapped up from where she was reviewing the phrasing notes Holdo had given them last week. “Hmm?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re still sitting a little flat on that last high A♭.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Rey blinked, feeling her shoulders rise in tension. “Okay. I’ll uh… I’ll work on it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo’s eyes softened. “I know you will. You’re succeeding in keeping the tone light, which is much harder. I’m sure you’ll have it by next rehearsal.” Holdo turned back to the choir. “On that note, we’re done for today. Please review your parts of “And So It Goes” for next rehearsal and thank you for all your hard work.” She raised her voice over the rustling of people putting music away and slipping past each other to get off the terraced risers. “And let’s not forget to give our thanks to Threepio for putting up with my song choices. This one must be killer on his fingers.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The choir obligingly applauded while Threepio wrung his hands and gave a tiny nod.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, yes. Perhaps it is a touch challenging. I truly <em>would </em>appreciate receiving the repertoire more than two weeks in advance next time, Amilyn, and perhaps we could discuss what constitutes reasonable accompaniment for a pianist. I was rather out of my element that time I was required to play the spoons…” Threepio trailed off, voice buried under the zipping of jackets and calls of “Bye!”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Rey, are you available for a chat?” Holdo asked, her voice much softer now that she was standing next to where Rey was organizing her backpack.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey scrunched up her nose. “I actually have a class now. Can it wait until after Friday’s rehearsal?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, yes, of course.” Holdo interlaced her fingers and then pulled them apart again, which was the closest she ever got to fidgeting. “Perhaps you could bring Finn?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey raised an eyebrow. “So not about the choir then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo smiled tightly. “No. An… opportunity. An offer of sorts.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey shrugged. “I’ll bring Finn.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I’ll buy coffee. See you Friday, Rey. And Rey,” Holdo called as Rey walked up the aisle leading out of the church, “you’re a wonderful soprano and getting better every day.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Throughout the 15 minute walk to her musical theory class, Rey couldn’t wipe away the smile stuck on her face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">***</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“An opportunity, huh?” Finn popped another piece of sesame bubble waffle into his mouth as he and Rey walked to Raddus Church, where her choir rehearsals were held.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t believe I let you talk me into buying this,” Rey said, cramming another chunk into her mouth. “You know sugar is bad immediately before singing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just a rehearsal. You’re at them practically every day. When are you supposed to find time to eat bubble waffles?” Finn rolled his eyes. “Besides, you owe me for making me sit through 2 hours of your caterwauling just to hear Holdo’s <em>offer</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was all bluster, of course. Finn loved hearing Rey sing, and Rey sang best when her sound was one irreplaceable part of the choir’s whole, unique but seamlessly incorporated. When she’d first been accepted into the choir, he’d tried to attend every rehearsal, sitting in the back pews listening, ignoring the coding exercises open on his computer. Two weeks later Rey had banned him because he was behind on his projects and Holdo had started sending her pointed glances.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe she’s offering you the job. For after you graduate,” Finn said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The job. Assistant director and permanent first soprano for the Talenta Choral Ensemble. That was the dream. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo had tempted Rey into a degree in choral music with the promise of job prospects across the city, but she had convinced her with the suggestion of an extended mentorship. Holdo had been the first person to recognize Rey’s talent during her first year and the only source of maternal love Rey had ever known.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe,” Rey said, chewing thoughtfully. “But then why did she need you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Obviously she knew I’d be <em>devastated </em>if I missed this moment in your life. You know, as your best friend and family.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey rolled her eyes but graciously looked the other way as Finn stole the remaining four pieces of bubble waffle and practically inhaled them. “Yeah, well. We’ll see.” She chucked the wrapper in the nearest trash can and heaved the church door open. “After you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">***</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey blew into her coffee mug and tried very hard to ignore Finn’s blatant attempts to hype her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And she was just telling me last night about how the way you take the crunch note in the Mozart particularly slow really softens the resolution and how it’s got her thinking about how she’d apply the same principle to something less obviously harmonious, like Stravinsky or something. Not that I really know what that means, but she made it make <em>sense </em>for me, you know, which is really something considering I’ve only been listening to choir music for 2 years and just the one choir, honestly, and—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Finn, I’m well aware that Rey’s talents extend beyond her musical ear. It’s actually those other talents that I wanted to talk about.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey perked up. “You want me to direct something?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not exactly. I…” Holdo sighed. “I want you to understand that I have in no way betrayed your confidence. I have not shared what you told me about your childhood with anyone and if you want we can never speak of this again. I just… have a very good friend in need of a particular skill set, and it seemed a good idea to let you know what she’s offering and make the decision for yourself.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey stilled. Beside her, Finn’s hand tightened around his own mug. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo grimaced and let out a breath. “Rey, you are an extremely talented individual who deserves the world. But I know your scholarships can’t cover everything, and job my friend is offering is government-sanctioned and pays very, very well. But I would completely respect your decision either way. I can’t fault you for wanting to forget such a troubling past. Say the word and we’ll never bring it up again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We choose that option,” Finn said at the same time that Rey placed her free hand on top of his.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You wanted Finn for this too?” Rey said, staring into her dark roast.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“His skill set could also be… beneficial.” Holdo shifted in her seat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you’re involved in this… <em>job</em>?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In a more distant capacity, yes. Rey, dear, we really don’t need to—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How much?” Rey asked. Finn and Holdo both stared at her. “How much is she offering?” Rey prompted again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo swallowed. “A quarter million, between the two of you. It’ll be subject to taxation, government contract and all that, but you should still be left with—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A fuck-load of money,” Finn said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How long do they need us for?” Rey managed to peel her eyes away from her mug to glance at the starstruck expression on Finn’s face. It was a little disarming how quickly his reticence had dissolved.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A few months, barring unforeseen circumstances. You’ll be required to help with the prep work, since they want to keep the team as small as possible.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And they want me for my… other talents? Is it dangerous?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo’s smile was small and sad. “You’ll have a support team, of course, including Finn. But your role will be more involved than anyone else’s so… yes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finn frowned. “Look, we both appreciate the offer but—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Rey said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo and Finn both blinked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t speak for Finn,” Rey said, pausing to take a sip of her rapidly cooling coffee, “but I’ll do it.” Turning to Finn, she said in a softer voice, “You pulled us out of one financial hole. It’s my turn. It’s the least I can do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Peanut, you don’t need to—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Give her my contact info. Your friend, I mean.” Rey nodded at Holdo, standing up. “I think I’m going to get this to go,” she said, gesturing with her tepid coffee.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo and Finn watched her walk off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Give her my number too,” Finn said on a sigh. “And thanks.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holdo shook her head slowly. “For what?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finn let out a little huff through his tight smirk. “For bringing me into it. So I can watch her back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have a complementary skill set that wasn’t in the team yet and I just—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, yeah.” Finn got up, properly smiling now. “Please limit your bullshitting to bizarre musical metaphors.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">***</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ben Solo was eating hummus while painting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but today he was painting for himself, which meant low toxicity oil paints instead of the carefully reconstructed lead paints Snoke had him using for “historical authenticity” on most of his pieces. And he was hungry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was unusual for Ben to paint when it wasn’t required of him, although of course he wasn’t painting anything original. As he followed the tilt of the painted figure’s wrist, lengthening the fingers slightly, relaxing their posture with smooth, layered strokes, he considered how he would have positioned her. He wondered if there was something to be said for the more relaxed posture of this version over Rubens’s later one, despite the latter being a more polished product. Ben thought if it were up to him, he might have painted her reclined properly, at ease in her pleasure. A quieter ecstasy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was while Ben was mixing a new shade for the creases of the palm that Armitage Hux stumbled in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The great Kylo Ren, reduced to painting in the dark. Snoke wouldn’t pay for lighting after midnight?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This isn’t for Snoke.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hux tried to raise an eyebrow but only succeeded in closing one eye. “Still doesn’t explain the dark.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not that dark,” Ben said. He didn’t explain that the dark made it hard to perfect his colours. That the dark allowed him to distance his version from the original without having to acknowledge the changes. That the dark provided the safety of replication with the exhilaration of creating something <em>new</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck yeah, it is,” Hux said. His vocabulary got especially vulgar after the third shot of tequila. He swore again as he tripped over a frame propped against the wall on his way to the light switch. “Ah, there we go.” He sneered, the expression sloppy and lopsided.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ben sighed and looked away from his work, but it was too late.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bit too heavy on the shadows there, isn’t it? And the original had better blending of the strokes, no?” The most obnoxious thing about Hux was that even piss drunk, he had a passable eye for art. “Looks like you needed the lights on after all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ben turned back to look. Hux was right of course. His Leda was harsher than Rubens’s, her bones more pronounced and her face more strained than the original’s fleshy suppleness. Her hair was darker and her eyes seemed almost bruised. It was obviously a poor copy of the original’s soft grace, her hollows seeming to ooze hunger, both physical and carnal, her rapture more desperate than content. And to think he had been trying to paint her more relaxed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not bad though. I’d fuck her.” Hux said this as if it was the highest praise.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wouldn’t you rather go accost another bottle of tequila than talk about defacing my painting?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not the painting,” Hux said. “The <em>woman</em>.” But he left anyway, leaving behind an aura of booze and enough light for Ben to pick out every error he’d made.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ben sighed, put away his hummus, picked up his paintbrush, and started fixing all his mistakes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">***</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you able to meet in person?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey paused midstep, looked at her phone, then put it back to her ear. “Hello?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, hello. Are you available to meet in person?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right now?” Rey looked around, suspiciously peering into the campus flower beds. “Where?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come to the Jakku collection in the Erso Library. I’ll be browsing the Local Mythology section.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay—” Rey heard the click as the person hung up. As she hoisted her backpack up a little higher and set off for the library, she dialled Finn.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s up, Peanut?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Finn. Meet me in Erso library, Jakku stacks.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay… you have an anthropology paper to write for your <em>composition</em> class?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Rey said, walking through the library’s automatic glass doors and heading for the stairs, “we’re about to find out what that <em>job</em> is.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hung up as she strolled into the empty basement area and began walking between the stacks. It only took her a minute to find a very small woman dressed very professionally in a collared blouse and slacks. Rey wondered how noticeable she’d been weaving through students in sweatshirts and jeans. “Hi. I’m Rey,” she called out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman turned to pin a calculating gaze on her, her eyebrows arched regally. “Special Inspector Leia Organa, with the Art Crime division. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Rey.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey nodded as if this didn’t bother her. “So you’ve uh… you’ve heard about what I can do?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scale bare walls, crawl through ventilation ducts, crack all but the most sophisticated analog safes. What can’t you do?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey blushed. “I’m a little out of practice.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike.” Leia waved Rey’s objections away. “Is your friend on the way?”</span><br/>
<br/>
“Finn?” Rey startled. “Uh, yeah.”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good, he can join us. We’ll meet the others after you’ve both reviewed and signed the contracts.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are we going to need a lawyer?” Rey was only half joking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Smart girl. Amilyn can do that for you, I believe. I assume you trust her judgment.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holdo is a lawyer?” Rey said, her brow furrowing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She used to be.” Leia looked up. “Ah, Mr. Johnson. Join us, will you? We’re about to discuss the details, and then Amilyn will be here with the contracts.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holdo is a lawyer?” Finn said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She used to be,” Rey answered, nodding sagely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s have a seat.” Leia swept over to a study table, taking up a remarkable amount of room for such a small person.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rey settled into the seat across from her and accepted the granola bar Finn handed her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s always hungry,” Finn said, prompted by Leia’s raised eyebrows.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Noted. We’ll negotiate a snack budget.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, really?” Rey asked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Miss Johnson— you are both Johnson, yes? Any relation?” Leia pressed her fingertips together into a steeple.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Only relation,” Finn said cryptically, with a hint of warning.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see. Well, Miss Johnston, you’re really doing me a great favour. I recognize that what I’m asking of you is… unusual. It’s my intention to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. To that end, Amilyn has agreed to be the team’s support staff. Please let her know if you need anything to aid you in your goal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what is that goal?” Finn asked, somewhat testily.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re going to rob a museum, of course.” Leia sat back and pulled some papers out of her briefcase while Rey and Finn blinked at her from across the table. “The Exegol Museum, to be precise.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not far from campus,” Rey said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Leia nodded. “Another advantage, since you, like all the other members of our team, have lives beyond this job.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But… <em>why</em>?” Finn appeared too shocked to be suspicious anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ve suspected First Order, who manages Exegol Museum for the government, of operating an art smuggling ring for years. The authentic art pieces come into the museum, where they are replaced with remarkable forgeries and “authenticated” regularly by in-house employees who are in the know. The forgeries are too well done, providing just enough legitimate age assessment data that nobody can reasonably request an outside opinion. And in the meantime, the real paintings are sold on the black market for a fortune.” Leia let a sigh slip out and slid papers covered in tables and numbers across the table. “We wouldn’t have even noticed, except since the museum’s management changed hands, there’s been a trend in the paintings our sources report changing hands at the underground art auctions nearby. The number of pieces that are double-listed with the museum’s collections is too high to be a coincidence.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How do you know they’re not selling forgeries?” Rey asked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The black market is surprisingly good at authenticating their wares. They have to be, with the kind of money and power their clients bring to the table,” Leia said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait.” Finn pushed the paper he was holding back across the table. “How does this relate to us robbing a museum?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah.” Leia smiled widely, an almost predatory expression on her otherwise composed face. “This brilliant idea was actually proposed by Special Agent Ackbar, whom you’ll meet shortly. You see, there is a particularly important piece being added to the museum’s collection. And unlike most pieces entering the museum, this one is famous enough that the museum’s donors have demanded a viewing soon after its delivery. Too soon for a forgery of such a large piece to be completed.” Leia pulled out another sheet of paper, this one depicting two men gazing at three naked women. “The Judgement of Paris. Rubens’s second version, completed in 1639. Four metres wide and exquisitely crafted, it would be a nightmare to produce a quality forgery at all let alone in the two weeks the museum has been allotted prior to its unveiling. Of course, a painting this famous could never sell on the black market anyway. It would cause far too many waves in the art world.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So if they can’t forge it anyway, why are we stealing it?” Rey asked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Leia’s smile got even more wolfish. “Because, <em>we’re</em> going to forge it instead. Not perfectly, of course. Well enough that it could be overlooked in the scramble to organize the big event. We’ll swap in a forgery for the real painting, and when the donors make a fuss and museum is unable to produce the original, they’ll be forced to accept an external investigation. And then we’ll have the damn<em> bastards </em>right where we want them.” Leia practically snarled the end of her speech.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow lady, you really have it out for these guys,” Finn said, all awe and respect.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t call me lady,” Leia said, narrowing her eyes, then smiling. “Call me Leia. But yes. Let’s just say they’ve stolen more than just paintings.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Rey said, “I’m sold. Call Holdo and we’ll look at the contracts. The money is convincing, but the story has got me <em>motivated</em>. ” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finn leaned in close. “You sure about this, peanut? It sounds exciting, but it also sounds problematic.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure.” Rey’s voice was soft but firm. “It’ll be nice to use what Plutt taught us for good. And how often does one get the opportunity to pull an art heist with government approval?” She allowed a wolfish smile that mirrored Leia’s own to cross her face. “Let’s go steal some stuff back.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Choir song from the beginning: <a> Eric Whitacre - Little Birds </a></p><p>Painting Ben is copying: Rubens - Leda and the Swan (1601)<br/>as opposed to the 1602 version</p><p>Painting mentioned by Leia: Rubens - The Judgement of Paris (1639)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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